by Stuart Woods
“I like it,” Stone said, and he meant it.
“I rather thought you might. I’ve placed your house here off-limits to them, too, except for one man at the front door and another at the rear. There’s a platoon available, of course, should circumstances require. And they get to see the pool only to inspect it before I use it.”
“So, nobody’s going to open the gate?”
“Nope.”
Somebody opened the gate. “That’s lunch,” Stone said. “Ah.”
The cart was wheeled around the pool, and a waiter set the table, placed the food, and opened a bottle of wine.
Stone noticed a bulge in the small of the man’s back. Looked like a nine mm.
Soon they were alone to enjoy their lobster salad. “I’m afraid dinner tonight is out of the question,” she said. “An impromptu visit from the Japanese president.”
“Ah, well.”
“I’m yours until four o’clock, though, and I’ll do my best to make up for the lost time.”
“You’ve already done that,” Stone said.
“Then I’ll start building credit for the future.”
20
Holly snuck out of the house at four in the afternoon, and he slept for a couple of hours. He had dinner off a tray in his lap and watched TV. Lara’s series came on, and he watched it for the first time. She was wonderful, he thought.
The butler had just cleared away his tray when his phone rang. “Hello?”
“It’s Eggers. I’m done here. You about ready to head east, say, tomorrow?”
“Sure. Wheels up at nine.”
“Will you be alone?”
Stone thought about that. “Undetermined,” he said. “You’ll find out when you’re aboard.”
“See you at eight-forty-five,” Bill said, then hung up. Stone thought for a moment, then he called Lara.
“What a surprise!” she said.
“When do you start shooting Peter’s film?” he asked.
“We start rehearsing, let’s see, six days from now.”
“How would you like to spend those days in New York with me?”
“What a good idea!”
“I’ll send a car for you at seven-thirty tomorrow morning,” he said, “and I’ll meet you at the Burbank airport.”
“That’s just grand.”
“Make a note: the tail number is November One, Two, Three Tango Foxtrot—N123 TF. You’ll need that at the gate for access to the ramp. Wheels up at nine. That means be aboard at eight-forty-five.”
“Got it. See you there.”
“Oh, there’ll be one other person aboard, besides the crew: my law partner, Bill Eggers. You’ll like each other.”
“Fine.”
They hung up, and Stone arranged transportation for himself and Lara. Then called Faith and gave her her marching orders. He got a very good night’s sleep.
* * *
—
They departed on time, and Eggers and Lara did most of the talking. The cockpit buzzed Stone’s intercom. “Yes?”
“Dino for you on the satphone,” Faith said.
Stone picked up the handset. “You got the time right for once,” he said.
“I’m a timely guy. You hear about Art Jacoby’s girlfriend?”
“Yes, I spoke to him yesterday.”
“Now Art has disappeared.”
“Define ‘disappeared.’”
“Nobody that I know can find him.”
“I think that was his plan, after what happened to his girl.”
“Well, he did a damn good job of it.”
“Have you looked down the hall?”
“In his office here?”
“It’s worth a try, and it’s not a long walk.”
“I’ll call you back.” They both hung up.
After a few minutes Dino called back. “Art’s in his office, appears to be working.”
“Glad to be of help,” Stone said. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“Dinner tonight?”
“There’ll be a girl, name of Lara Parks.”
“Good. Viv is back from wherever the hell she was. Patroon at seven?”
“You’re on.” They hung up again.
“Everything okay?” Lara asked.
“We’re having dinner with my friends, Dino and Vivian Bacchetti at seven,” he said.
“How will I be dressed?”
“I will be wearing a suit and necktie. You will have to figure out the rest.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m sure you’ll do it very well.”
Eggers interrupted. “We closed the deal with Edgar Wheelis,” he said.
“Then I did my job.”
“Yep. The good news is I can’t think of a reason ever to meet with him again.”
Stone thought he’d better call Joan; he tapped the number into the satphone.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’ll be in later this afternoon, with a guest.”
“I’ll tell Helene to expunge all traces of any previous visitors.”
“Good idea. Did you get the bail money back?”
“It’s in the bank,” she said. “Somebody called here asking for Art Jacoby. I did my ‘who’s that?’ routine, and it seems to have worked.”
“He’s in New York. If he should call and need a bed, send him to a hotel, maybe the Lowell.”
“Will do. You will rest undisturbed.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re very welcome, sir.”
“Oh, and please book us a table for four at seven, at Patroon.”
“Certainly.” They both hung up.
Eggers moved across the aisle, so that he could work unimpeded, and opened his briefcase.
Lara moved next to Stone. “This is a lovely airplane,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s a Gulfstream, isn’t it?”
“It is. A G-500.”
“I saw the seating plan, and there are two beds in the back cabin, aren’t there?” She squeezed his hand.
“I think we should wait until we’re home to have that transaction. We wouldn’t want to shock Bill Eggers.”
“He doesn’t look all that shockable.”
“He’s not, really, but he’s a terrible gossip. I’d hear about it every time I visit the Woodman & Weld offices.”
“Don’t you work there?”
“I work mostly from my home office, but I go to the law offices for meetings and such.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to damage your reputation.”
“The gossip would likely improve my reputation, but I don’t want to hear about it from the people at the main office.”
“I’ll try and contain myself until we get home, then. By the way, where is home?”
“It’s in one square block of Manhattan townhouses, built around a garden, and it’s called Turtle Bay.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s in an area that used to be a bay, before it got filled in and built on a long time ago.”
“Is there a bed?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Oh, good.”
21
Fred met them at Teterboro in the Bentley. Eggers had his own car. Stone introduced Fred and Lara, and they drove into town and into the garage. Fred took the luggage upstairs, while Stone led Lara into his office.
Art Jacoby was sitting on the sofa in Stone’s office. Stone introduced Lara to him. Joan came in, too, and Stone asked her to take Lara to the elevator. “I’ll be up in a few minutes,” he said to Lara. “You might, ah, unpack.”
She squeezed his hand and left the room.
“I hear you disappeared for a while, Art,” Stone said, taking a seat.
Art shrugged. “It
seemed preferable to getting shot in the head,” he said.
“Arguably.”
“Then I came to New York. Nobody would look for me here. Joan found me a hotel uptown, but I wanted to speak to you first before I check in.”
“Go right ahead,” Stone replied.
“I know it’s hardly necessary to mention this, but please don’t tell anybody where I am.”
“Dino and his people know you’re here. You went to your office at One Police Plaza.”
“I’ve sworn them to secrecy, too.”
“I’m sorry about your girlfriend,” Stone said.
“I’m afraid I underestimated Deborah Myers,” he said. “After the charges were dropped, I thought she’d just let it go.”
“Apparently not.”
“If I’d been smarter, Deana would still be alive.”
“Then why are you still alive? Debby must have known where to find you.”
“She needed me at large, so that she could hang Deana’s murder on me. Then probably have somebody shoot me in the head and fake a suicide.”
“I ask you again: Why are you still alive?”
“Because a detective friend of mine caught the case. He was at my house when I arrived. I called Deana’s brother and asked him to make the burial arrangements, then I threw some things into a bag and caught the train to New York. I left some things here, and I came by to collect them. Joan packed them up.” He stood up. “I’d better get going, and check in to the Lowell.”
Fred came into the room. “Anything else, Mr. Barrington?”
“Yes, Fred. Please drive Lieutenant Jacoby uptown to the Lowell Hotel, then you’re done until seven o’clock.”
Jacoby offered his hand. “Thanks for your help with the hotel.”
“You’ll impress the hotel staff by arriving in a chauffeured car,” Stone said. “All you have to do after that is tip well.” He walked Jacoby to the door. “Are you going to go to your office every day?”
“No, I’ll just call in for my messages.”
“Watch your ass,” Stone said.
“I’ll do that.” Jacoby took his leave.
Stone spent a few minutes dealing with correspondence and messages, then took the elevator upstairs. He walked into the master bedroom to find Lara unpacked and undressed, sitting up in bed with a book from Stone’s bookcase in her lap. She closed it and tossed it aside.
“Now,” she said, patting the bed beside her.
Stone undressed and slid into bed. “I’m right here.”
* * *
—
Patroon was packed, and more people waved at Stone, since the inaugural festivities. Lara saw somebody she knew and stopped for a moment, and Stone sat down in the booth with Dino. “Where’s Viv?”
“Her flight was delayed. She’s coming straight from the airport.”
He nodded toward Lara. “New?”
“Yes, from L.A. Her name is Lara Parks. Peter has cast her in his new film.”
“How are you going to square this with Holly?”
“Holly suggested a while back that we be loyal in our affections only when we’re in the same city.”
“Didn’t I read that she was in L.A. yesterday?”
“Yes, and she stayed overnight. Their paths did not cross.”
“You think that’s really going to work?”
“It’s working so far. We both dislike celibacy.”
“So she’s sleeping with somebody else?”
“I don’t know, and that’s the way she wants it. So don’t bring it up, and I don’t want to hear about it from Viv. Perhaps you could have a word with her about that.”
“I will, but I can’t make any promises about how she’ll take it.”
Lara came to the table, sat down, and was introduced to Dino.
A moment later, Viv entered the room and walked toward their table, her eyes fixed on Lara. She sat down and was introduced.
“So good to meet you, Lara,” she said. “How did you and Stone meet?”
Lara trimmed the pool scene off the beginning of their story. “I’ve been cast in Peter’s next film, and he invited my leading man and me to dinner at his house. Stone was there, too, and when he heard that I wanted to come to New York, he very kindly offered me a lift.”
“Stone is such a generous guy,” Viv said, smiling icily.
“We were chaperoned by Bill Eggers,” Stone said. “We were in L.A. on business.”
Dino whispered something in Viv’s ear. “What would you like to drink, my dear?”
Stone had never heard Dino call her that.
“My usual martini,” she replied. “Dearest.”
Stone winced, but Lara did not seem to have twigged to what was going on.
The maître d’ arrived with menus, and Stone breathed more easily while they studied them.
They ordered, then Lara spoke up. “When Stone and I met, I recognized him immediately from the People photograph of him waltzing with the president.”
“That’s happening all too often these days,” Stone said. “I might have been better off if I hadn’t known how to waltz.”
“Stone,” Viv said, “when did you learn to waltz?”
“My mother sent me to a dancing class when I was twelve. She thought it might make me less awkward with girls.”
“Well,” Viv said, “that certainly worked, didn’t it?”
Everybody had a good laugh, and things went more smoothly after that. Viv and Lara actually got on very well, Stone observed.
22
The following morning, after Stone and Lara had had breakfast and each other, and while Lara was showering, Dino called.
“I’m amazed,” Dino said.
“At what?”
“Viv actually liked Lara. And when I told her about yours and Holly’s arrangement, she thought it was a sensible idea.”
“I’m so glad that we—Lara, Holly, and I—have won Viv’s approval.”
“You damned well ought to be,” Dino said. “Otherwise, Viv would make life hell for both of us.”
“If it helps, you can tell her that, if I have to choose between her approval and the company of women, the choice would be very easy.”
“I am certainly not going to tell her that,” Dino said. “Just try and be happy that Viv is on board with your lifestyle.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as she is, and not a minute later.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Listen, Art Jacoby has checked into the Lowell, and he doesn’t want anyone to know.”
“Yeah, Art and I had that conversation.”
“Do you think you can spare a man in plainclothes to watch his back?”
“Watch his back against what?”
“Stray bullets. It appears that Little Debby has plans for him, and not happy ones.”
“He thinks that Little Debby had his girlfriend popped, and he’s next?”
“I think that accurately describes his current frame of mind.”
“Okay, I’ll put somebody on him. Do you want him to know?”
“If he’s any good at all, he’ll figure it out. If he doesn’t, I’ll tell him next time I see him.”
“Which will be when?”
“When he seeks me out again.”
“I think you’d better let him know now,” Dino said. “Otherwise, he might mistake my man for one of Debby’s, and hostilities could break out.”
“Good point; I’ll let him know. What’s your guy’s name?”
“Let’s see,” Dino said, and Stone could hear the drumming of fingers, probably on Dino’s desk. “Frank Capriani!”
“You don’t have to shout.”
“Get in here, Frank!”
“What, was he walking past your door?”
<
br /> “Yeah. You got the name?”
“Frank Capriani.”
“Very good. You should have been a parrot.” Dino hung up.
Stone called Art Jacoby.
“Yes?”
“It’s Stone.”
“Good morning.”
“Where are you now?”
“Getting dressed to go out. I’ve got a fitting for a suit.”
“An NYPD detective is going to find you and follow you around.”
“Why?”
“Because Dino doesn’t want blood to be spilled on the pristine streets of his New York.”
“That’s very thoughtful of him. And you. I expect you arranged it.”
“His name is Frank Capriani. If you get a chance, shake his hand.”
“Right.”
“And go out heeled.”
“To my tailor’s?”
“You’ll need him to conceal that bulge under your arm.”
“Good point. Okay, I’ve no objections to being followed around.”
“Buy him a cup of coffee—strike that—a drink. And, at the end of the day, cross his palm with silver.”
“How much silver?”
“A hundred, if you can afford it.”
“I can.”
“Have a nice day.”
“I’m determined to do that.” They hung up.
* * *
—
Lara had been dispatched to upper Madison Avenue in Fred’s care when Joan walked into Stone’s office. “Donald Clark to see you.”
“Here? Again?”
“I’m afraid so. I can ward him off, if you want.”
“Send him in, I’ll do it myself.”
Donald Clark entered the room as if he owned the place. “Good morning, Stone.” He took the chair opposite Stone.
“Morning, Donald. What can I do for you?”
“You can make a phone call for me.”
“To whom?”
“To Hol . . . the president.”
“Do you have a sprained dialing finger, Donald?”
“It’s difficult to get through to her. She’s the president.”
“Yes, I remember something about that.”
